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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25320931">Angels, Demons, and the Things In-Between</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonebugget/pseuds/lonebugget'>lonebugget</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU: American Omens, Angel/Demon Relationship, Asexual Character, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Dancing, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Falling In Love, First Love, Friends to Lovers, Good Omens AU, Grey-Sexual Character, Heaven (Good Omens), Hell (Good Omens) - Freeform, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, LGBTQ Characters of Color, Light Angst, Love Triangles, Multi, New York City, No Smut, Original Character(s), Other, Rhode Island - Freeform, Shapeshifting, Shopping, Slow Romance, Stonewall Riots, Swearing, Third Person POV, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but they'll do it for evan, celocia does not like macys, idiots to lovers, my characters are dumbasses, shopping at macys, switching POVs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:07:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25320931</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonebugget/pseuds/lonebugget</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alt Title: American Omens</p><p>What if Heaven and Hell didn't just have two earthly agents? What if there were two more, stationed on the opposite side of the Atlantic? And what if, it all started with a fox, and an angel?</p><p>Notes: My updating/writing schedule is heavily dependant on the amount of schoolwork that the editor and I have, so basically, expect an update every 1-3 weeks. Also, the tags change depending on what I have planned or what has happened, so if it hasn't happened in the chapters yet, it probably will happen later on. Finally, all comments, kudos, and criticism (constructive only) are appreciated!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evangeline/Celocia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Fox and the Angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It all started with a perfectly sunny day, a fox, an angel, and a very large tree. Not that tree, but a tree nonetheless, more specifically, an oak. The angel in question -- the former Principality Evangeline -- had been tasked with guarding this particular oak in Mexico. She was instructed to never leave its side. She was told that it was a very big job and that no one else had been given the honor that she had. It, in fact, was not a very big job, or even mildly important in the slightest. </p><p>OR</p><p>Evangeline's job is a ruse and Celocia comes in to flirt with an angel.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It all started with a perfectly sunny day, a fox, an angel, and a very large tree. Not <em> that </em> tree, but a tree nonetheless, more specifically, an oak. The angel in question - the former Principality Evangeline - had been tasked with guarding this particular oak in Mexico. She was instructed to never leave its side. She was told that it was a very big job and that no one else had been given the honor that she had. It, in fact, was <em> not </em>a very big job, or even mildly important in the slightest.</p><p>You see, when Heaven was assigning the four chosen Principalities their respective Walls, Evangeline was left out of the mix. Eventually (a decade or so later), Heaven had realized that they made a mistake -- they had picked five angels instead of four. After a brief explanation that Evangeline was needed “elsewhere” (Heaven didn’t feel the need to confess their mistake to the angel), her supervisor, Archangel Micheal, assigned her to oversee some random tree in Mexico. Consequently, this tree happened to be in a clearing, and when the sun hit the area just right, it made the entire area look heavenly, which made it ever so perfect to keep the angel none the wiser. So, the angel sat beneath the tree, legs crossed and eyes open wide for any troublemakers that should happen to pass by. A year passed, then two, then three, then four, and soon, a decade had gone by, and still, there sat Evangeline, underneath the tree, waiting, watching, listening for anything that might pass by.</p><p>On this particular day in the garden - which she had named ‘el Jardin de Angeles’ or ‘The Garden of Angels’, there had been some rustling in the bushes nearest to the tree. Evangeline had gone to look in them, but all she had found was a cross fox, looking extremely wide-eyed and generally un-foxlike, compared to however foxes looked when an angel peeked in on them during their time alone; if foxes could feel at all. The sun was high in the sky, and it was nearing mid-morning, so she had figured that it was coming by for a chance to snag some of the berries, or whatever foxes ate. Evangeline closed the bushes and hurried off to do her morning duties, which mostly consisted of finding anything to keep herself busy that day, and if there was nothing to do, she’d instead be sitting underneath the tree, waiting for something to happen. What she didn’t notice was the fox, coming out from its hiding place in the bushes, and sitting right next to her spot at the base of the tree.</p>
<hr/><p>Celocia was assigned to finding an angel. It was never specified what type of angel, just an angel, in Mexico, who Hell was hell-bent on at least trying to tempt (See what I did there?). Although Celocia wasn’t too sure about tempting a god-damned angel, they were still sent out to do Hell’s work. So there they were, shapeshifted into their fox form, watching the angel through the bushes nearest to the tree that they were supposedly assigned to protect. Even at a far-away glance, it hadn’t looked like any important tree, just a regular old oak. The figure at the base they had assumed was the angel was just sitting there, doing nothing. Just watching, alert for any activity in front of themselves. Celocia had thought this temptation would be boring at first, but that was nothing compared to what she was experiencing. It had been like watching metaphorical paint dry, just instead of paint, it was molasses.</p><p>Celocia had guessed that it would take a while, so they might as well make themselves comfortable. But just as they had settled themselves and stretched, the bushes rustled, and a squirrel had bounced away, nuts in hand. They had cursed in their head --something like ‘damn’ or ‘shit’ -- but Celocia’s mind went blank when they actually saw the angel in person. This, in fact, was true, cliches be damned. The angel was actually quite pretty, with light beige skin and blonde hair with brown roots. The hair was pulled into a half bun with braids, and the rest fell down and framed her face, making her even more angelic, despite her being an actual angel. Her face was speckled a smattering of freckles, and she had bright, baby blue eyes. She was smiling a close-lipped, glimmering type of smile. The type of smile someone would only see if the person that was looking at you genuinely cared for you. Which Celocia had never experienced. They’d only seen scowls, angry yelling, maybe the occasional petty laugh, but never a genuine smile. It made their heart beat just a little bit faster; if it could beat at all.</p><p>The angel bent down to look at Celocia, and for a moment, just a minuscule second, they had thought that she was going to do something, maybe pick up their corporation, cuddle with them, maybe even PET them, and Celocia, at the moment, didn’t find a reason to refuse. However, the angel just pushed back the bush and left the demon in quiet, scorching darkness. Celocia cursed the constant heat that radiated around them at all times. They couldn’t feel it-- a lifetime in Hell with it could do that to you-- but everyone else could. Practically all of the demons in Hell-- even Lords and Princes -- backed away from the heat. It was probably why the angel left them be in the first place. Not many creatures could withstand the intense, humid heat. But the angel had stayed close enough to Celocia without fanning themselves off, or immediate recoiling in the heat. With this in mind, they decided to move forward, right next to the angel’s regular spot at the base of the tree. If the angel could withstand the heat, maybe they could get close enough to be near her for a while. Celocia snuck underneath the brush and stuck low to the ground, keeping an eye and ear out for the angel. They found the spot and continued doing their best to mimic a fox just casually going down for a quick nap. Celocia circled around and lay on the ground, keeping a conscious ear out for the angel’s footsteps. Though they did try to keep a good ear out for the angel, it would be futile. Even She couldn’t have predicted what would happen next.</p>
<hr/><p>Evangeline wasn’t one for company. Maybe it was because she had been left to her own devices for a decade, or maybe it was because the only real company she’d ever had were her supervisors. But Evangeline did know one thing: company, especially that especially of angels and maybe even demons (she’d never seen a demon before, but if the stories were true, she doubted she’d like them), always ended up in a smelly puddle of goo. It was this particular thought that ran through Evangeline’s mind as she finished up her walk around the garden after finding nothing of interest. She’d been a few feet away from her spot by the tree when she noticed a very familiar fox napping right beside it. It wasn’t unusual for animals to be around the tree, but it was only a few squirrels and the occasional small -but still terrifying- snake, never a fox. “No matter”, Evangeline thought, brushing off some imaginary dust on her shoulder, “Micheal just appears out of the forest when they want to talk, so it’s not them. And Cassiel never visits, so this may be just a regular fox. And angels can’t change corporeal forms, so it definitely isn’t one of them. I suppose there is a chance this could be a demon...improbable, but still a possibility”. As Evangeline ran this thought through her head, she cautiously sat down beside the creature, and to her surprise, it didn’t seem to move or make any indication that there was a figure beside them. The only way she could tell that the fox was alive was the shallow breaths and the huffs of air coming out of its mouth. She settled down cross-legged and took one last look at the fox before training her eyes on the forest in front of her. She didn’t even notice the intense heat.</p><p>It took a while before Evangeline noticed the fox again. This time, she saw, it was practically snuggling into her lap. The fox had moved from its previous spot beside the angel and was in front of her instead, its head snuggled into the crook of her crossed legs. It was very cute. A few hours had passed, and the heat from the sun was wavering Evangeline’s ability to keep staring at the same spot she had been for the past three hours. Although she’d done this every day for the past decade, today, in particular, was difficult. It was unbearably hot, more so than usual, but she suspected it to be because of the time of day. It was noon, after all. To be fair, Evangeline didn’t want to disturb the fox. After all, an angel wouldn’t disturb an adorable napping fox for their own personal gain, right? Angels <em> would </em>, in fact, disturb a sleeping fox because it was in their way. Namely the Archangels, maybe Cassiel. Although...they hadn’t been down to the garden yet, so there was no telling what they might do. The angel stretched, taking care not to rouse the fox, and settled back down into the tree. Evangeline didn’t notice until a few moments later, but she was petting the top of the fox’s head and it was leaning into her touch. It was comfortable, almost like she’d done it every day since she came to the garden. Of course, good things never last for long.</p><p>“You know, you’re very cute-- for a fox I mean,” Evangeline mumbled, moving her careful pets to the fox’s neck. “Not that I didn’t think you were cute when I first saw you-- you just looked like a fox then. Well, you still do, but you looked...oh<em> , how </em> can I put this...a bit more feral. But I don’t mean to offend-- and can someone even offend a fox? I’ve haven’t got a clue. I hope I wasn’t too skittish coming down here next to you. Micheal always says that an angel who is guarding a garden for the Almighty must be brave and confident in their abilities, and while I <em> am, </em> it’s still a bit scary. I just had to be careful. There are all types of animals around here, and some can be quite a pain to deal with, even if I am an angel. Why, just the other day, there was this large panther-- at least I <em> think </em>it was a panther-- and it was black, and while I was trying to get a bird off of the ground, it swooped up and knocked me out of the way to get it instead! I tried to get back at it, but it hissed and gave me a scar down here, right on my palm. It doesn’t hurt too much now, but when I got it, it stung quite terribly. And now, here I am, contradicting everything I said about being careful; petting you. I hope you don’t mind it much,” Evangeline rambled on and on. Turns out not having company for a decade gives you a lot to say.</p><p>The fox had in fact woken up at this point, and to tell the truth, it had been awake for some time, but Evangeline continued to alternate between scratching behind its ears and smoothing the hair on its torso and head. The fox was completely on her lap now, and she was still rambling to it. In her efforts to please it, she’d forgotten all about keeping watch over the tree ahead, since she had just spent the last ten minutes talking to a fox. It was definitely different from what she usually did at this hour-- but not a bad different, just unexpected. What happened next was also unexpected.</p><p>What you must know is that Evangeline was naive (and still is), and sometimes just a bit gullible, but whatever word you used to describe her, you would always include that she noticed things far past the appropriate amount of time that it took normal angels and demons. Not that Evangeline wasn’t normal, just that she had a different way of figuring things out. It didn’t exactly fit into a specific word, but it was the one consistent thing that you could find in her charts. So that’s why it took her just about five minutes to notice that the fox that was once on her lap, was no longer there. Instead, there was a person, legs splayed over Evangeline’s right leg and torso across her left.</p><p>“You know, I never thought I’d be in the arms of an angel, but times change,” a voice mocked, and Evangeline stopped petting the once-fox-now-person. She finally realized that there wasn’t any fur brushing up against her legs anymore, but smooth legs. And the place where the supposed fox’s head was supposed to be, was a chest. Evangeline turned her head to where the sound of the voice came from, and saw a girl, no older than her, staring right back. It took a few seconds, but Evangeline, with all the strength she could muster from sitting down all that time, threw the girl a few feet away from the tree and took a good look. She had shoulder-length hair; wavy, dark red, and a crown of thorns with little fire-roses nestled in it. It took on the distinct image of flames flickering about; bright orange and yellow with a hint of dark red. She was laughing - no, yelping? The noise sounded vaguely like a fox’s cry. The figure had lightish-brown skin, with lighter, almost white-pink patches of skin around her nose and down her legs. She wore a black cloak, quite similar to Evangeline’s own white one, but it had intricate weavings of silver here and there, in contrast to Evangeline’s gold. It was tied off in the middle with a grey sash. The two things that stood out were the wings, fiery red, with black tips, shielding the girl on the ground, and her eyes. Those eyes...Evangeline would never forget them. When she’d seen them at first, she had thought that they were a figment of her imagination, which ran rampant most of the time. But no-- upon further examination, she saw that they were real, and even from a distance, Evangeline could tell that both resembled fire, exactly like the girl’s hair and crown. She wanted to get a closer look, get a better image of the girl, to maybe talk with her, but she stopped herself. If she wasn’t a demon, then Evangeline could maybe say that she was pleasing to look at (she was quite right, but would never admit it to herself). This demon could hurt her if she made any sudden movements. So Evangeline held her ground, getting ready to smite the demon that dared walk into her garden.</p>
<hr/><p>Getting smote in an angel’s garden wasn’t really Celocia’s plan of choice, but if this would be how they ceased to exist, then it would be worth it. The angel was really quite darling now that Celocia had gotten a closer look. Other than cute, it was the first word that Celocia had learned to describe someone they liked, so they’d be putting it to good use. And this girl had called them cute, which was a plus. Or at least, Celocia <em> thought </em>the angel was a girl. Celocia heaved themselves off of their feet, dusted off their black robe, let their wings rest, and cautiously took a few steps forward.</p><p>“So, er -” Celocia started.</p><p>“Principality of the Lord, Evangeline. What is your business in my garden, temptress?” the angel responded, backing up further towards the safety of the tree.</p><p>“Ooh, we’re using our <em> fancy </em>names then,” Celocia retorted, continuing their stalk toward the angel. “Then I'm the Demonic Tempter of Lucifer, Celocia. But you can just call me Celocia, never liked those fancy-ass titles anyway. And I’m not some “temptress.” I’m genderfluid, so, if you don’t mind...'”</p><p>“Oh, alright then.” Evangeline stopped and paused for a second like she was taking in something, then furrowed her brow. “I mean, why would I want to know your preferred way of being spoken about if Heaven will find out that you’ve snuck into coveted property….beast.” The angel spat on the ground for emphasis, but the last of it dribbled down her chin. Celocia made no mention of it. By now, Evangeline was completely backed up against the tree.</p><p>“I’m a beast now? I thought you called me cute ”</p><p>“That was before you harassed me!”</p><p>“I did nothing of the sort. In fact, I think it was <em> you </em>who started to pet me.”</p><p>“I only did that because I thought you were a regular fox! N-not some...demonic presence in <em> my </em> garden!”</p><p>“But you still did, so it counts.”</p><p>“Counts as what?”</p><p>“A temptation.”</p><p>“You did no such thing! You only were on my lap because you seemed harmless enough, and I…I was lonely.”</p><p>“Lonely, hm? I can think of someone that could fix that.”</p><p>“What are you getting at, demon?”</p><p>In the time that they’d been talking, Celocia had stalked a generous amount forward and was now around a foot away from Evangeline’s face. She had looked commanding at first. But now? She was scared, with maybe a hint of frustration. It was adorable to see this “almighty angel” all worked up over a little old demon coming into a space that Celocia knew held absolutely no importance in any Archangel’s mind. They'd been sent there to perform a minor tempting on the angel, to see if she could be swayed to become one of them; The Fallen, Damned, whatever you wanted to call it. Angels weren’t supposed to talk or even be around demons, so once Celocia had found the angel, they’d just get a general impression and leave. They’d thought that they’d be disgusted by an angel, with all their holier-than-thou crap. Supposedly, Principalities were supposed to be tough and smite any demonic force that dared to step foot into their space. At least, those were the stories. The angel wasn’t supposed to make Celocia question why the Hell an angel like her was being lied to about the garden, or be cute, or pout and make an adorable face that makes adults forget what they were mad about. And Mammon said it’d be easy.</p><p>“Tell you what, I’ll leave you alone for now, but first, you have to give me a kiss, right here.” Celocia pointed to their cheek as they spoke, watching the angel’s face contorting into relief, then disgust, then a faint blush, hardly noticeable.</p><p>“Why in the Lord’s great green Earth would I do that? Just based on the stories, I’ve heard that demons shrivel up and die at affection, and they taste quite bad; like brimstone or evil.”</p><p>“Well, you’ll just have to kiss and tell, won’t you?”</p><p>Celocia didn’t think that the angel would kiss them. Demons were undeserving of affection and love because of the Fall and all, so why ask for a kiss on the cheek? It was because Celocia had always been a flirt, ever since their creation in Heaven. It was just never put to good use, not even in Hell. Most of the demons there would think you weren’t kidding, and Celocia had a reputation that they didn’t want to be sullied with too much flirting. Although, they did get along great with the incubi and succubi. It’s like a defense mechanism, something to fall back on when the conversation was trying and nothing was getting done. Celocia would get close, ask for a kiss, or <em> suggest </em> something, and the human would usually be too flustered to answer, and they’d walk away. It was foolproof. But, to their surprise, the angel gave them a very chaste kiss to the cheek. It lasted only five seconds, and in those seconds, the two said absolutely nothing, but all the while, Celocia was taking in everything about the angel. Her smell, her hair, and every small detail on Evangeline’s face that Celocia didn’t see before now was permanently burned into their memory. She smelled like vanilla with lavender, and somehow, light. They didn’t know how the Hell they could smell <em> light </em> , but there it was. Celocia could <em> feel </em>something else too, something warm and comforting, nothing like their scorching, Hellish heat that they radiated constantly. They’d felt it before, but right now, the name of the feeling wasn’t coming to them. Evangeline pulled away, and Celocia could see her face. She had a dusting of a light pink blush that spread across the bridge of her nose. In comparison, Celocia could feel the red-hot tomato blush that burned and set every neuron on fire.</p><p>“Fuck.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading this chapter!! Comments, kudos, and criticism are always appreciated. </p><p>And a huge thank you to the phenomenal editor - sephiia!</p><p>Socials, if you want to find me:<br/>Tumblr: lonebugget<br/>WattPad: thecronchbar</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 1700's and Counting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tiny flakes of snow fell outside Evangeline’s small bedroom window, accumulating on the overhang and frosting the glass edges over. It was nearing sunset, and Evangeline sat on her small bed pressed up against the wall of the window, watching the first snowfall of the new year with bated breath. In just a few moments, something was going to happen, something she’d been looking forward to ever since August of 1771. Celocia had promised it would happen -that they’d be here- on the first freezing day of 1775.</p><p>OR</p><p>Celocia meets up with Evangeline after four years, and they share a few raspberry tarts.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here is the second chapter of ADTIB! </p><p>Took a while, but it's better than chapter one, I would think. </p><p>Anyway, hope you enjoy it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tiny flakes of snow fell outside Evangeline’s small bedroom window, accumulating on the overhang and frosting the glass edges over. It was nearing sunset, and Evangeline sat on her small bed pressed up against the wall of the window, watching the first snowfall of the new year with bated breath. In just a few moments, something was going to happen, something she’d been looking forward to ever since August of 1771. Celocia had promised it would happen -that they’d be here- on the first freezing day of 1775.</p><p>Evangeline watched from the window as horse-drawn carriages paved hoofprints in the soft padding of snow, chimneys billowed smoke from the tops of houses, and militia-men marched forward with high hopes for the oncoming war. Good gracious Almighty, this war: what was humanity thinking? Independence was a right enough cause --even one Evangeline wholeheartedly supported-, but it shouldn’t be the cause for all this bloodshed. Why couldn’t they get leaders from both sides together and work things out? Talking about your problems and the way you felt about certain things never hurt anyone. In fact, it did much more good than harm. And Evangeline knew this: she’d experienced it with Celocia six-thousand years before any thoughts of war and fighting were even present in a human brain. Before anything remotely significant in time had even happened, if you didn’t count her demotion from Principality to Guardian Angel. Evangeline sighed heavily and smoothed out the ruffles in her upper petticoat from sitting on a bed for hours. It reminded her of when she used to sit below the oak tree in her garden and tried to get out the dirt from the cloth of her cloak. It was embarrassing, to say the least, when the archangels had told her what she was doing in that clearing; or rather, what she wasn’t doing. Even though Evangeline was told that it wasn’t her job to care for the garden anymore, she still tried to when she passed by. Evangeline thought about it from time to time too, just wondering what might’ve happened to all the marigolds and orchids that she’d planted. Or maybe even what kinds of animals were taking up residence in the tree’s branches now. But that didn’t matter, or at least, she tried to <em>think </em>it didn’t. Evangeline’s job now was to watch over some boy, and provide “moral support from afar”, although she never did. She preferred to grow up with the boy, from when he was an infant to when he died. Although she stopped “growing up” physically at 16 ½, her mortal age. In reality, she was 16 ½ <em> millennia. </em> The problem wasn’t that she couldn’t physically do it, no, the problem was that it was draining on her to do it for so long. If she were older, maybe, but even then she would still stop at her physical age.</p><p> A soft knock downstairs snapped Evangeline out of her gaze at the window. She stood up immediately and turned the dial to extinguish the oil lamp that stood at her night-table. Grabbing her yellow kerchief from the chair beside the table, she tucked it into the gown and quickly pulled on a cap. Just before Evangeline was about to leave the bedroom, she checked for one last thing: a small dual-colored rose pinned to the side of her cap. It was there, just like it always was. With that, she hurried down the narrow staircase and out into the kitchen, where (to her relief) no one was present. Unfortunately, Evangeline could hear her mother* in the living room, most likely entertaining her friends with polite conversation and sewing. Now <em>that </em>was one of the things that Evangeline <em>hated </em>about the 1700s; along with many others. The polite entertaining with small talk and absentminded needlepoint. It was dull --plus she just pricked her fingers all the time -- and what was the point? Evangeline was smiling wildly as she reached the back door, and just as she put her hand on the metal handle, she took a second to compose herself; after all, she didn’t want the person on the other side to get the wrong idea. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been looking forward to this for years now or anything. But even after a few long breaths, her smile was still as present as ever. After trying a few more times, Evangeline gave up and grabbed her white cloak, and opened the door. When she opened the door, there stood a man -- or what looked like one to any human pedestrian. But Evangeline knew better. What seemed like everyday attire for a man in the 18th century had a strangely...demonic touch that seemed awfully out of place. The man wore the typical black coat, buckled shoes, and a tricorn hat that most men wore in this century, but a brilliant red-orange waistcoat adorned their body with a fire-like glow. The steinkirk that they wore around their neck was a greyish color, and so were their stockings. The breeches were the only color that wasn’t coordinated with the rest of the outfit - they were a very dark brown. They weren’t wearing a greatcoat, something that was generally worn by most men this time of year. But something was missing. Not the demonic-heat that radiated out from the person as they stood in the doorway...no, it was something else entirely. Something...material. As Evangeline stood in the doorway scanning the figure for what seemed like an eternity, they finally spoke:</p><p>“Hello, Evangeline.” Celocia smiled and bowed dramatically while outstretching their hand with an inviting grin. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”</p><p>“Oh my lord, it’s really you!” Evangeline took their hand and pulled them closer to her, wrapping them in a tight hug. “It <em>has </em>been too long, hasn’t it? I’ve got so much to tell you…” Evangeline trailed off and her eyes moved frantically around their coat. </p><p>They smiled and stepped back from Evangeline. They flipped over their left coat lapel and presented a small golden bow clipped to the inside. “Is <em> this </em>what you were looking for, Evan?”</p><p>“Oh my! Yes, it is! I’m so glad you wore it. And I thought I told you to not call me Evan back in...oh, when was it? 1579, maybe?” She questioned playfully while closing the door behind her, leading Celocia to the snow-covered roads around the back of her house. </p><p>“What can I say? I’m persistent, and a flirt to boot. But it’s still a better nickname than the ones that I’ve given you in the past. Who could ever forget the scourge of ‘darling’s and 'honey’s and...and...Satan, what was the one you almost smote me for a few centuries ago?” Celocia said as they motioned for Evangeline to move ahead of them towards the busy street. </p><p>“It was ‘angel’. In 1358, I believe. I was in Chile, and you had come by for some hot peppers and a quick tempting. I remember you’d pronounced the pepper’s name wrong, and I told you how demonic it was that you’d done so. Then you told me how angelic I looked in the dress I was wearing and called me ‘angel’ for the rest of the day. It was okay as a joke, I suppose, but it got old, and it’s like calling someone ‘you’ instead of their name. It’s a bit disrespectful, to be frank”</p><p>“Wait, you actually <em> learn </em>people’s names?” Celocia stopped in their tracks and stood staring at Evangeline before running back to catch up with her. “Like, remember their names, and not forget them after the encounter like a normal person?” </p><p>“Is that really what you got out of that sentence?” She sighed and snickered quietly. “Of course I learn people’s names! Why wouldn’t I? I’m an angel, after all, and it’s only common courtesy”</p><p>Celocia stared at her for a second with little confused huffs of breath before bursting out into laughter. “I mean, I don’t know why <em>you </em>wouldn’t, Evan. You’re an angel. I just...didn’t think that was a thing normal p-people did.” They stopped talking to catch their breath and tried to stifle their giggles, but it was futile; they continued to laugh for a good two minutes. “I only learn names when someone is important to me.” Celocia gestured to her with a smile. </p><p>“Oh, I see.” Evangeline’s eyes darted to her feet as she walked, and in that moment, she smiled.</p><p>“Anyway, I’m sure Heaven doesn’t want their angels wearing a dual-colored rose. It doesn’t even doesn’t match your color palette! Seriously, Evan, it stands out too much. Not that I don’t want you wearing it-- I do, of course -- but you’ve gotta be careful,” they continued as the pair merged with an incoming crowd.</p><p>“Says the person who looks like a gunshot fired and splattered them with blood,” Evangeline said, and Celocia rolled their eyes. “You look like a British soldier with all the red you’re wearing. Maybe try a much more inconspicuous color for the beginning of a war? Perhaps...grey and a very light red? To keep up that demonic flair of yours, of course.”</p><p>“I do have that, don't I?” They laughed. “Even if I am wearing lots of the color, British soldiers wear red coats, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not wearing a red coat. Just a waistcoat. And it’s not red, really, it’s red-orange.”</p><p>“It’s the same thing, Celocia,” she said as they walked. “It’s not like your average American is going to stop to ponder the shade of your waistcoat?”</p><p>“Since when do you see the nuances of shade? We’ve been friends for six millennia and you still can’t see the difference between eggshell and cream white.” </p><p>“They are the same color!”</p><p>“No, they aren’t. I keep telling you-”</p><p> As the pair entered a crowd, the petite Evangeline practically shrunk down twice her height. It simply was something she tended to do whenever there was a large group of people. She wasn’t nervous or on edge when she walked into a crowd: her small size just made it so easy for her to move through a group without being detected. Although Celocia always told her that she should stand taller, it made her look much more powerful than she seemed. Just as Evangeline -- quite literally -- shrunk down, a hand snaked its way behind her and pressed on the small of her back, immediately snapping the angel back into an upright position. Evangeline’s eyes went wide, and she could feel the bridge of her nose burn from something she couldn’t quite place; embarrassment, shyness: it was anybody's guess. Her hands instinctively went to her back to trail the hand that was guiding her through the crowd, and once she reached it, it turned around and gripped her own. </p><p>“It’s just me, don’t make a fuss,” Celocia muttered as they continued to guide Evangeline through the crowd. “I keep telling you that standing up tall is better for shit like this anyways.”</p><p>“Oh, alright.” Evangeline took her hand away and continued to walk, unconsciously leaning into their touch just a little bit. “Just make sure you let me know ahead of time so I don’t react like that.”</p><p>“Yeah, of course.”</p><p>Evangeline pulled her cloak over her shoulders and pressed closer to Celocia to warm up. Having a human -- er, demon -- candle helped in the colder months, even if she rarely <em>saw </em>the candle. The pair exited the crowd and continued to walk down an alleyway. Although Evangeline had complete trust in Celocia (most of the time), she couldn’t help but wonder: where were they taking her?</p><p> </p><p>*When the child that Evangeline is guarding is still living with their parents, she tends to live with the child as an adopted or biological sibling (miracling an extra memory in the parents’ minds does the trick). If that isn’t an option, she lives close by. After they move out, she ceases her presence in their life and watches from afar instead. Sometimes she pops in to say hello, but other than that, she lives by herself during the person’s adult life. </p>
<hr/><p>Celocia had been preparing for this moment for years. Years may not seem like much to an average demon, but Celocia was no average demon. They had an angelic friend to please, and in only <em>four </em>years! The last surprise that they’d constructed for the angel took <em>two </em>decades. Granted, they got held up in Pittsburgh and had to do a bit more than tempt, but it still would’ve taken <em>at least </em> 12 years to put that thing together. Evangeline had made her fair share of surprises as well, but Celocia tended to create the bigger, grander ones. As much as Celocia would deny it, doing these things was good and decent. Demons were supposed to be bad, malicious even, and they certainly weren’t supposed to care about another being. And that’s why Evangeline said that Celocia was different. They cared about...er... <em> specific </em>beings, and wished that humans wouldn’t kill off their race*. That’s the main reason why they went over-the-top with their surprises. But it was also because of their personality.</p><p>Celocia had always been a dramatic demon. Even when they were an angel, they loved to blow things out of proportion and playfully flirt with some of the lower-level angels, and they loved it so much that they Fell for it. Celocia was also astonishingly good at surprises, because, well, they <em>were </em>the one who invented them, after all (Heaven used them for surprise parties, and Hell used them to scare humans and fellow denizens). So when Celocia heard that Evangeline loved surprises, they always made a point to give her one for almost every encounter after years of not seeing each other. There were many, and Celocia forgot most of them -- living for 6 millennia can do that to you -- but there was always one that stuck out. It happened sometime in the late 1400s, and they hadn’t seen each other for 1 or 2 centuries, not since the two were in Brazil. Celocia didn’t know when she’d be back, but they’d been planning the surprise for a good 6 years at that point, and it was <em>good</em>. They knew that they’d be stationed in Paraguay for their next assignment, and if Heaven was going to send the angel back down to Earth, they’d send her to Paraguay; because demons need to be thwarted, as Archangel Micheal would say. After Celocia had met up with Evangeline, they’d set out for Mexico, and the plan would be afoot. </p><p>6 years prior, the demon had been wandering around the forests in fox form, just looking for something to do, when they stumbled across the garden where Celocia had met the angel. It was overgrown from time: the vines that were usually kept short by Evangeline were coiling on the ground, and the leaves from the surrounding forest had formed a canopy over the space. The only bits of light were the small beams of sunlight that poured through the canopy. Weeds had grown all around the space, and the dandelions that Evangeline would’ve never allowed poked up through patches of grass. Celocia walked around, taking in the space they hadn’t seen in 6 millennia, and finally saw the tree. They didn’t know why they didn’t notice it in the first place. It was gigantic, and had doubled in size since the last time Celocia was there. The roots of the tree jutted out and were breaking up the dirt, and the trunk had grown so much that it towered over Celocia by almost a higher number. Its branches had become twisted and had grown other, smaller, branches, which in turn, had grown their fair share of other, smaller, branches, and so on. Some of the larger ones hung so low to the ground that you could climb up and onto the tree itself! Large patches of bright and dark green moss stuck to the bark closest to the bottom, and as they’d walked up to it, they remembered it being soft to the touch, almost like downy feathers. From that day, years passed, and all the while, Celocia, the demon who didn’t know jack shit about plants, took care of the garden. They continued working on the surprise every day, and once Celocia met Evangeline in Paraguay, they added on the final details. The next day, Celocia led Evangeline to the garden, and, from what Celocia could remember, it was one of the best days they had had as a demon. The two of them ate on the tree’s branches and talked for hours; about Heaven, about Hell, about the random thoughts that popped into their brains. Celocia remembered one especially good conversation that involved laying in Evangeline’s lap and reenacting the first day they met, except with more stumbling feet and playful flirting than there probably was in the first place. And that, that special surprise for Evangeline, was what Celocia was always trying to top. So even though Celocia didn’t get as much time as they would’ve wanted this time, it was going to be at least half-decent. </p><p>“So, what have you got in store for me this time?” Evangeline asked as Celocia moved ahead of her.</p><p>“Just wait, Evan,” Celocia huffed. </p><p>“Well, I’ve been waiting for four years,” she pouted, jutting out her lower lip.</p><p>“I get that, and we’ll get there soon.” They stopped walking, paused, looked back at Evangeline, shook their head, and chortled. “Satan help me.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“It’s nothing.” Celocia started to walk through the alley again, faster this time. </p><p>“It has to be something if you just asked the <em> Adversary </em>to help you,” Evangeline said, jogging to catch up.</p><p>“Honestly Evan, it was nothing. Just a thought I had. S’not important.”</p><p>“Of course it’s important!”</p><p>“It wasn’t.”</p><p>“Yes, it is!”</p><p>“No, it isn’t,” Celocia huffed, as if to say that their word was final.</p><p>Evangeline grabbed their arm: “Celocia, tell me what you were thinking!”</p><p>Celocia stopped walking to stand in front of the angel and stared them down, practically drilling holes into her face. Their face was neutral, passive, maybe a tinge of annoyance, but inside, they were panicking. How the <em> Hell </em>were they supposed to say: “Well, when you pouted for those two seconds, it reminded me of when I first met you, and how you looked so adorable with your arms crossed and you standing there all pouty-like. But I can’t say that without damaging our friendship so hard that it may never recover, so I’ll just stay silent”. So they blurted out the next best solution.</p><p>“It just made me seem like a mother, that’s all.”</p><p>“A what?” Evangeline sputtered, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.</p><p>“A mother. Don’t make me repeat it.”</p><p>“Yes, I heard that part, but...why?”</p><p>“Why what?” Celocia cocked her head, teasing the angel.</p><p>“Why did you say that?!”<br/>
“Say what?”</p><p>“You know what you said, Celocia!”</p><p>“Nope, I haven’t got a clue! Mind refreshing my memory? With a kiss perhaps?” They laughed as Evangeline shoved them to the ground. </p><p>“You’re painful to be around right now,” Evangeline shouted behind her as she walked further into the alley. </p><p>“Evan, you <em>*wheeze* </em>you know I’m a flirt, right?” Celocia shouted back, spreading their legs out in the snow, clutching their stomach in laughter. </p><p>“That still doesn’t excuse the fact that you are, undoubtedly, unbelievably, painful to be around in this exact moment.”</p><p>Celocia snorted out a few extra giggles before getting out of the snow and snapping their fingers: a fluid motion, from the middle of their chest down to the beginning of their thigh. The snow that had been falling slowly came to a stop, and the sun came out, along with a few looming clouds. They checked their coat pocket, and upon finding that the small object was still there, they jogged to catch up with Evangeline, who was at the end of the alleyway. She was standing at the edge, right before the start of the street, and once Celocia had reached her side, they walked across the street, treading carefully around the carriages and adults that walked with their spouses. The couples that passed made subtle side-glances to the two of them, faces contorting in confusion and disgust. Celocia knew that technically, the two of them weren’t supposed to be out anymore, especially Evangeline. Girls in this century were shackled to the home, and more so than other centuries, from what they’d seen. It just made it harder for her to do her job as a Guardian Angel --or at least, that’s what Evangeline had told them. Girls couldn’t go to school, and because Evangeline had the misfortune of looking after a boy, she had to sneak out of the house to keep an eye on him. It was just sad, really, how little girls and women could do at this time and how much men could. Even though they’d told her that she could just make her appearance change, she said she “didn’t want to”. Even if it helped her job, she refused. </p><p>The two of them passed by a bakery, and wordlessly, Celocia stepped inside to grab a few raspberry tarts, freshly baked. Celocia had introduced them to Evangeline a few centuries ago when they had first been imported in. She’d loved them so much that she ordered them five more times in that same week. Of course, they could just miracle them in, but Celocia preferred getting food the human way, even if they didn’t <em>need </em>to eat (or breathe, or walk, or blink. But Celocia thought blinking was an interesting concept, so they kept it up). They exited the bakery and continued walking along the main road, then turned right onto a less crowded street, then a left, a right onto a forest trail, a u-turn back around to the trail when they got lost near a creek (to which Evangeline replied, “I thought demons were supposed to know about directions. You were the ones who invented them, after all.”), and finally, a small path to a cliff-edge. The sun was just starting to set, dipping just below the line of conifers, oaks, and pines, with the occasional birch sprinkled in. Celocia snapped their fingers in that same swooping motion, clearing a dry space at the very edge of the cliff, free of snow and extra pebbles from the rock. </p><p>“Here we are,” Celocia said, setting down the bag of tarts beside them. “The surprise is coming up soon, so wait a few more minutes.”</p><p>Evangeline nodded as she sat down, opened the bag in-between them, and took out a tart. Celocia watched her as she ate, subtly stealing little glances to make sure she didn’t slip off of the cliff. They grabbed the cliff edge and kicked their legs into the empty air. Celocia had to make sure that they didn’t fall off the cliff edge too. Even though they’d made it dry, there always could be something that could slip through the cracks. Someone could pop out at any time to disrupt them, and while humans were easy to persuade, demons and angels weren’t. Imps were everywhere, and they reported back to their respective Prince of Hell with the information they gathered that century. Celocia wasn’t too sure how Heaven operated, but they bet that they had just as many scouts down on Earth as Hell did. It was unnerving. To think that they might be having a friendly dinner with Evangeline one moment, and the next, an imp could pop out of nowhere and immediately tell Mammon. Celocia would be discorporated for sure, and so would Evangeline, or worse, made to Fall. And, with what they knew about Heaven, Micheal would probably make it worse for her.  Probably burn off parts of her body with Hellfire instead of burning her all at once. Or maybe bring <em>Gabriel </em>into the mix. The thought made Celocia shiver. They lived on constant alert, waiting for <em>someone </em>or <em>something </em>to come and get them. Nothing ever had, and they hoped nothing ever would. It was tiring, living in a state of constant panic. Even in the moments when they hadn’t seen the angel, Celocia was worried. Worried for themselves, and for Evan. </p><p>Their knuckles were white against the grey rock, almost as white as the patches that covered their body. Celocia didn’t like those patches of skin, although they couldn’t tell you why, because there was no physical reason. The larger patches sometimes got itchy, and that caused a bit of discomfort, but it was nothing too major. The patches that the humans could usually see covered Celocia’s face, freckled down their arms, traveled down their thighs in large spots, and ended at the ankles. The largest patches were on their belly and down their back. The way people looked at their face was like they were some oddity or creature in a circus. Their eyes, too. When Celocia had first met Evangeline, the first thing she’d commented on were their eyes. She said she liked them; that they reminded her of a fire flickering. But humans didn’t take to them as well as Evangeline did. Humans in this century thought it was a sign that Celocia was marked by the devil -- which they were, but no one knew THAT --and that they weren’t to be trusted. It made forming relationships with mortals a challenge; making temptations...difficult. It was disheartening, to say the least. But at least she wouldn’t have to deal with shit like that. </p><p>Evangeline was pretty, no doubt about it. Even now, with an outfit that she openly expressed her...<em> opinions </em>about, constantly. That it took up too much space, that she didn’t like how there were so many layers, the gown itself too <em>way </em>too long to fit into, etc. But even though she complained and whined, Evangeline wore them every single day. She wore the fancy dresses with the corsets and lace, the high heels that made her feet hurt, and put on the makeup that Celocia was sure would cause her mortal body to die at forty. And she looked beautiful in them. She looked amazing, even now, with her petticoats rumpled at the front from sitting in one position for too long and covered with dirt at the bottom edge. Her hair was frizzy from being in a cap for so long, and she was holding the material in her hands, fixing the small flower clipped to the side. The sun had finally started to dip lower into the horizon, and Celocia shielded their eyes from the golden rays. It was almost ironic, to see such a dark-clothed person being bombarded with light. It was as if She was <em>trying </em>to smite them. The sunlight passed over their eyes and Celocia looked to their left to see if she'd gotten the same blazing light treatment. What they saw was probably straight out of the bible. Evangeline looked like a blessed angel. They supposed she was one, but that wasn’t the point. The golden light was illuminating the areas around her, brightening her outfit, and making her even more breathtaking than they ever thought she could be at that moment. Celocia could practically <em>see </em>the wings unfurl out from behind her. They were staring, full-on, as Evangeline noticed the brightness and moved to shield her eyes from the light, and Celocia went to check their coat pocket in search of the small object. Once they were sure that it was still there, Celocia turned to the bag beside them to take a tart. They ate silently, relishing in the comfortable silence as they waited for the sunset. </p><p> </p><p>*Think of Alastor with his whole “it’s fun to watch humanity trip and tumble as they try to climb the fiery pit of failure” thing, but toned down, with less serial killer vibes. </p>
<hr/><p>Evangeline didn’t know what kind of surprise that Celocia had planned this time, but she knew it was going to be great. After all, they did invent them. She hadn’t said anything to Celocia since the two of them had arrived, but that was how their friendship worked. Sometimes they both just needed a moment to enjoy each other’s presence. Each of their minds ran in different ways, Evangeline knew that. Hers tended to be a mess most of the time. If she was talking about trees, for example, and had a thought about pianos, she’d switch from trees to pianos without skipping a beat. She’d ramble on and on with her messy, incomplete thoughts. Celocia’s mind, from what Evangeline understood, was more organized. They’d finish a thought and move on to the next, and they spoke calmly unless there was something to worry about. Although their personality was chaotic, their voice never reflected it. It was one of the things that Evangeline had grown to love about Celocia (along with a multitude of others). And the two of them having these moments was a comfortable thing to have in this particular century, even if it didn’t occur as much as she would’ve wanted. There was war, fighting, and revolution, social norms and tea parties, curfews, and difficult dresses. Sometimes Evangeline wished that she could see Celocia every day so that those little moments would last longer and she could have a break from it all. And simply seeing Celocia every day wouldn’t be that bad either. Evangeline loved the clothing that they wore this century, fitting their ‘demonic style very well. She’d always been a fan of the clothing that Celocia wore. Their clothing simply suited the times. She watched as they took a tart from the bag between them, and focused their gaze on the setting sun.</p><p> Evangeline had to admit, the scene in front of her was stunning. The sun was a bright yellow-orange, and it sank further below the horizon, mixing with the blues and purples of the sky above. The snow around them sparkled in the light, and the stars and moon were slowly making themselves known in the darkest corners of the sky. Evangeline inched further out from her spot on the cliff, subconsciously moving closer to the light until a warm grasp on her shoulder brought her back to reality. She turned to see Celocia smiling, with their eyebrows furrowed in humorous confusion at her movements, which was enough to draw Evangeline’s attention back from the sun. </p><p>“I wanted to give you something. Just as a... little parting gift.” Celocia smiled shyly and rummaged around in their coat pocket, pulling out a woven, silver-threaded bracelet. The ending threads were fixed to small, white angel wings</p><p>“What do you mean, ‘a parting gift’?” Evangeline tightened her grip on the cap. </p><p>“It’s a parting gift? You know? Humans sometimes give their friends parting gifts as a…a...shit, I haven't got a clue why. Anyway, it’s something that humans do.” They took their hand off of Evangeline’s shoulder and grabbed one of her hands, forcing the bracelet into her palm. “Just take it, Evan.”</p><p>“Thank you. It was nice of you to think of me like that.” Evangeline tugged it onto her wrist. It was a bit big, but that was nothing that a miracle couldn’t fix. </p><p>“S’nothing. And I’m not <em> that </em>nice.”</p><p>“Okay, sure. And you’re <em> so </em>ruthless.”</p><p>“I’m a demon, that’s what I do.” Celocia laughed and grabbed their tart, turned their body completely to face Evangeline, and motioned for her to do the same. </p><p>“To the 1700s.” They smiled, raising their tart in a toasting motion. </p><p>“And counting,” she returned, reaching out with her half-finished tart and met Celocia in the middle for their toast. Maybe this century wasn’t so bad after all. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading this chapter!! Comments, kudos, and criticism are always appreciated. </p><p>And, as always, a huge thank you to the phenomenal editor - sephiia!</p><p>Socials, if you want to find me:<br/>Tumblr: lonebugget<br/>WattPad: thecronchbar</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Paperwork, With a Sprinkle of Memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tiny humans were rallying in the streets, and it was throwing the entire New York City newspaper system off track. Although it did get out of hand when they started to protest for better working conditions and wages, Celocia was curious to see how this played out.</p><p>    It wasn’t like Evangeline had meant to end up in the Head Offices. Things just caught up to her as the years went by. There was that one night in Boston, and those few years in Texas, and oh, and she couldn’t forget the eight years she spent following Lincoln around. And when she had performed those miracles, she just knew that the “other shoe was going to drop”, as the humans say, but she didn’t know when.</p><p>OR</p><p>Celocia and Evangeline have spent a couple decades apart.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p><br/>“Extra, extra! The Children’s Crusade, Newsies Stop the World! Fresh off the press!”</p><p>    “Newsies Still Standing Firm! Get it while you can!”</p><p>    “Trolley Strike Enters into the Second Week!”</p><p>    “Pulitzer Holds His Ground!”</p><p>Celocia passed by the crowd of newsies selling papers on the bustling streets of Manhattan and snickered. Yet again, they’d woken snakes*, and it was going off without a hitch. Tiny humans were rallying in the streets, and it was throwing the entire New York City newspaper system off track. Although it did get out of hand when they started to protest for better working conditions and wages, Celocia was curious to see how this played out.<br/><br/>Humans could be unpredictable. Not to mention <em> gullible </em> . Especially in this century. And all they had to do to cause such a massive halt? It was simple, really. They miracled for their physical age to shift to that of a adult in their middling years, with an outfit fit for an aristocrat*, and waltzed up to the main building of The New York World. Their upscale appearance and mannerisms were clearly doing the trick, as no one tried to ask why they were there, or even stop to inquire about some form of ID. Convincing Pulitzer was easy too. They introduced themself as Daniel Jeffers, the largest investor of The New York World. They, or rather, <em> he, </em> demanded more money in exchange for his stake in the company or he’d back out entirely, meaning Pulitzer would be left without the support of his main investor*. The very next day, the change had been put into effect, and, unsurprisingly, everything went to shit. As they looked back on it, it was a cock-and-bull story that was invented on the spot, but it still worked, as ridiculous as it was. What was the most surprising was that Pulitzer didn’t even contact his <em> actual </em>main investor to make sure everything was in order. </p><p>As Celocia walked along the busy street, they performed minor miracle after minor miracle, attempting to stir up even more chaos. A fire hydrant burst open and sprayed a child square in the head. A small piece of the road came loose and tripped a man walking, making him fall flat on his face. A ladder fell off of its perch and knocked over the few people who didn’t have enough sense to run away. Celocia walked further down the street, and all the while, what seemed like accidental slip-ups behind them caused the many humans in Manhattan to have a terrible day. They overheard a pleasant conversation and decided to ruin it with gossip. By the time they sauntered away, the gentlemen in the group were adamantly discussing the strike and yelling about their clashing opinions.</p><p>It was a good day; after all, any day was a good day when Celocia threw a couple of demonic miracles and temptations in the mix. But what Celocia loved about temptations nowadays was that humans could think (mostly) for themselves and they didn’t have to do a thing, besides watching over to make sure everything was working properly, and the occasional nudge in the wrong direction. That’s what they did with the strike, and look how well that turned out. In just a week, all of New York City was shutting down to deal with the crisis, which left Celocia with even more time to do whatever they pleased. It wasn’t like Hell cared anyway. </p><p>Truth was, Celocia was bored. It had been awhile since the last “big thing” happened in America. Of course, there were the elections, which adored influencing, but those were too easy to manipulate. Politics were just too predictable, especially when you’d been meddling with them for centuries. And there hadn’t been a war since 1812, the Mexican-American War, and that other one where America fought themselves. The most that they could do, at least while they were in New York, was to cause a mini uprising with a large number of 12-year-old boys (and some girls). Celocia considered it their best work so far. Although, Andrew Jackson’s presidency was also quite ingenious. They even got a small commendation for it. His presidency was fun, and, in fact, it was probably the most fun that Celocia had had in decades. Even better than the Civil War. Celocia had served as a part of his cabinet (Secretary of Justice) and was the closest to him out of everyone in the White House. They helped make decisions that weren’t even a part of their area of the government. The whole Nullification Crisis and the scandal involving the Bank of the United States? Celocia helped with all of that. But “helped” wasn’t the word they’d use. It was more like “a nudge in the wrong direction”. Although, there were some decisions that Celocia would not have made at all, even if they were a demon and being terrible was, so to speak, “in their genes,” the “relocation” of the Native Americans was a bit too brutal for their taste, and they’d seen dozens of wars. But as much as that presidency was fun, after the eight years it went back to dull political races and boring articles in the morning paper. Honestly, what was the point of being a demon when humans were so boring? </p><p>Mindlessly walking down the streets, Celocia looked up to find that they’d reached their apartment in the Lower East Side. It had been a while since they’d been inside the place; they just had it for show, to occasionally lounge in when there was nothing that piqued their interest, or when a devious plot was just starting to hatch or was coming back down to reality. But even though they barely came to the apartment, it was still a comfort to have one. Like how humans kept junk they didn’t need; just for the sentiment. </p><p>Celocia moved around a lot. Correction --Celocia moved around <em> too much. </em> When they arrived in the city at the start of the 18th century, it had only just started to become the city it was now. They started in The Bronx, moved <em> at least </em> twenty times, then to Queens, lived on Fifth Avenue for a bit, then moved out for the Revolutionary War. Moved back to Queens, Herald Street this time, then lived underneath bridges while travelling the newly formed United States. They stayed with Evangeline for a day or two at her railroad flat before the start of Jackson’s presidency, moved to D.C for those eight years, then to the country-side of New York for twenty-four years ( <em> way </em> too many opportunities for temptations for a town in the middle of nowhere). Shipped out for the Civil War, came back, lived in Brooklyn, moved after two weeks, stayed with Evangeline <em> again </em>in Upper Manhattan for a couple of weeks, went to Vermont for five years, then moved to their current place in the Lower East Side in and had stayed ever since. If Celocia had done the math right, this was the longest they’d stayed in one place for a while.</p><p>They stared at the apartment building for a bit, just standing there, in the middle of the street. Granted, the street wasn’t empty, and they got jostled and shouted at in Hebrew, but Celocia didn’t care, didn’t understand, and continued to examine the building. It was a simple, dark, concrete building, littered with the occasional red brick, as if the construction company ran out of materials mid-way through the process. It sported the typical New York City windows and fire escape for each floor. On the ground, there was a small bakery. It was just short of a miracle that it paid the bills each month. No one bought pastries from it except for the few tenants of the building, and Celocia, whenever they happened to pass by. Their raspberry rugelach was quite good.</p><p>They strode forward, toward the entrance of the bakery, opened the door, and entered. It was a small space, the shelves crammed with different pastries, with little labels underneath. A small, circular table was forced between the large cash register and window overlooking the busy street. Celocia found the door that led to the apartment buildings, but before they went through, they spotted a bag of pastries labeled: Raspberry Rugelach. They snatched it and tapped the bell on the counter. A short man, around his mid-forties, rushed from the back room and rang up the pastries. He mumbled something in Hebrew, and from Celocia’s basic understanding of the language, he was apologizing for not greeting “him” when “he” walked into the shop. They dismissed the apology, and, in their broken Hebrew, paid in much more than was needed, thanked the man for the pastries, and waved goodbye. The shop owner gave them a confused look, as if they just said something odd, and returned the wave with slight hesitation. Realizing their mistake immediately, they rushed through the wooden door leading to the apartments and almost broke a hole in the wall with the amount of force they used to bang their head against it. </p><p>“Why in the nine circles of Hell did I have to try speaking Hebrew?! I can’t speak anything other than English and Spanish for <em> shit </em>,” Celocia laughed at their own stupidity, punctuating their last word with a punch to the wall. Sighing heavily, they trudged up the stairs and gripped the pastries with more force than intended, almost squishing them in the process. “Maybe I should get Evan to teach me Hebrew. She knows more about this language stuff than I do,” they thought. Celocia made their way up to the top floor of the building, trailing their fingers along the doors to see if they remembered which one was theirs. </p><p>“662..663...664...665...666. Ah, this one.” Celocia chucked. </p><p>With a quick miracle, the door unlatched itself and swung open. Celocia shuffled inside, slammed the door shut with another snap, and plummeted, face first, onto the couch. </p><p>*Woken snakes - past tense version of the phrase “wake snakes”. It was commonly used in the 1800s to describe a person stirring up trouble. For character context, Celocia likes using the slang that people come up with, however ridiculous. </p><p>**Male of course, because women couldn’t do anything in this century, or for the past 6000 years. As much as Celocia was a demon and supposedly bad, they couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry.</p><p>*** Several empty-threats were also promised if Pulitzer didn’t change the rules. Celocia wouldn’t act on them of course, but it was fun to watch him squirm. That’s what made temptations fun. </p><hr/><p>    There is only one thing that humans think of when they hear the word, Heaven. They think of paradise, The Kingdom of God, all that. There would be everything and anything that they could dream of there. Maybe a larger house and an unlimited amount of money to spend? A group of family and friends who loved them? And there would be angels. Lots and lots of angels. God would be there too, of course, and Jesus, and quite possibly a large ball of holy light that acted as the Holy Spirit. </p><p>    What humans wouldn’t think of as Heaven was a large and imposing building, covered wall-to-wall with windows, stark white, and overlooking all of humanity’s greatest creations: the Great Pyramids of Giza, all of the great cities scattered all over the world, the Eiffel Tower, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, etc. Everything and anything that you could probably think of was there. Next came the angels. What you had to understand about angels, in general, was that there was a hierarchy. The highest power was God, of course, then the Metatron: The Voice of God, then the Archangels, Principalities, Guardian Angels, and finally, the normal angels, who stayed in Heaven just as messengers. Like a mail system, but with celestial bodies instead of paper.</p><p> What humans also didn’t know was that God wasn’t as talkative as you might think, preferring to go through the Metatron instead, the Archangels acted much too “holier than thou”, and everyone else was just . . . there. Like props in a play. There wasn’t much to the actual building itself, most of its vaguely interesting rooms spanned floors, and the offices were off-limits to anyone who didn’t own one. The topmost floors were reserved for meetings between angels and the Metatron, the Archangel offices, and general space for the higher-ups. The Records Library was located just below the offices, spanning a few floors, growing every day. It contained all of the Earth’s history, including geological, physical, and astronomical records. Below that was the Armory, which was pretty self-explanatory. It held Holy Water, armor, swords, shields, and the like. Below that, at the lower floors, were the offices for the lower-tier angels. They weren’t offices, really -- more like cubicles that had two paper-sized chutes above that could spit out unfinished paperwork and beam up finished paperwork. In fact, that was exactly where Evangeline was now, cramped between three white walls, filling out paperwork in a very uncomfortable chair. </p><p>    It wasn’t like Evangeline had <em> meant </em> to end up in the Head Offices. Things just caught up to her as the years went by. There was that one night in Boston, and those few years in Texas, and oh, and she couldn’t forget the eight years she spent following Lincoln around. Now <em> that </em>was a sizable miracle. Heaven thought of America like the backwater country, or that relative that you had that you’d never really paid any attention to. Basically, as long as she did her work, Heaven turned a blind eye to whatever she did, and she could assume that Hell operated the same way. When Evangeline had performed those miracles, she just knew that the “other shoe was going to drop”, as the humans say, but she didn’t know when.</p><p>To tell the truth, it took Micheal <em> decades </em>to come up with a punishment for her impressive list of miracles. All of which, Evangeline thought, were for a good reason, and were justified. Even if that reason was not...directly aligned with her primary objective as a guardian angel. All she wanted to do was make the world a better place for the people she looked over. But that sounded an awful lot like an excuse, and Micheal was not one for excuses, especially when it came to her guardian angels and their jobs. So she kept her mouth shut, and Micheal assigned her to organize the Records Library for the first twenty decades, and clerical work for the next fifty. </p><p>Even though the paperwork was boring, shelving and organizing records was the worst of all. Most of them were in such a random order that it would take an infinite amount of time for someone to get through it all. A new record came through every hour, and if no one put them away immediately, they would start to overflow out of the basket the chute was placed above. There would be off-periods where nothing of importance happened, though --which seemed to happen more and more often, now that she thought about it-- and that was when Evangeline got time to read some of the more exciting records in human history. She especially liked European history, simply because it was fun to learn about things that she hadn’t experienced herself. She’d only been out of America twice: the first was in the early 18th century, where she traveled to Paris, and the second was a visit to Italy a few decades after.</p><p>Although she liked reading, Evangeline wouldn’t say that she was a bookworm. In reality, the only “books” she’d ever read were records during her trips toHeaven, which...didn’t happen all that frequently. Celocia had always been the one who enjoyed books. They’d said that they never considered reading as a hobby, but liked it as something to pass the time, although Evangeline had visited Celocia’s apartment and there were definitely some well-worn books on their shelves. Celocia would’ve loved the Records Library. Looking for the slip-ups in human history that would inevitably lead to its downfall was something that Evangeline knew they would enjoy. Not like that she’d been thinking of the demon in her supposed “time of reflection” in Heaven, of course. </p><p>Evangeline finished with the stack of papers in front of her and placed them on the large metal sheet to her right, labeled: OUTGOING. With a shrill <em> beep, </em> the papers were rocketed out of the cubicle into the chute, and seconds later, a bundle of new paperwork made a loud <em> thump </em>on the metal tray to her left, labeled: INCOMING. Evangeline stretched her hands over her head and started on the new papers, idly twirling a piece of hair in-between her fingers. The top read: “MIRACLES: DATING AND PERMITS”. Evangeline grabbed a fresh bottle of ink and got to work checking boxes and filling out pages. There was a reason why Heavenly paperwork was the worst kind of paperwork. Whenever an angel had performed too many miracles, had stepped out of line, become discorporated, or even been rude to an Archangel, they’d had to fill out enormous amounts of paperwork. An angel would have to go back to the first offense they had, find the record, and...you get the gist. Once all of the records had been found (which sometimes took decades), the angel would sit in a very small cubicle and fill out paperwork containing all of the little details of each offense. It was dull work, and was only assigned as punishment, which, for an angel, didn’t come very often. So...it built up. </p><p>    Five hours into the new stack of papers, and Evangeline was only one-third of the way through. At this rate, this batch would take fifteen hours or more, and she didn’t know how many more stacks she had to complete. She tried not to think about the fact that she had to do this for another sixty-one years. That, she had decided, was the hard part. What would she miss out on on Earth when she was up here doing paperwork? New inventions? Better raspberry tarts? Big elections? God forbid, a <em> WAR </em> ?! At the thought, Evangeline dipped her quill into the inkwell and feverishly scribbled her answers, getting rid of the prim handwriting that littered all of the other papers. <em> Maybe </em> , she thought, <em> maybe if I finish quickly, write shorter answers, I’ll get out earlier. What’s the word Celocia uses? Bull-shirt? Yes, I’ll bull-shirt my way through all of this and get down there faster.  </em></p><p>But, as she wrote, her brow furrowed with the knowledge that it would never work. Heaven, especially Micheal, was a stickler for clean reports and long explanations.  A scowl present on her face, she sighed, and miracled the paper clean to start again. Just as she dipped the quill into the ink, a single piece of paper fluttered down from the INCOMING chute and landed on the top of the pile. Evangeline stared at the paper for a few good seconds, wide-eyed in disbelief, and rightfully exploded. She threw her quill at the white wall in front of her, which just ricocheted off and knocked over the inkwell, which spilled all over the paper she’d been fussing over. She clenched her fists until the fingernails bore into the skin of her palms, and screamed internally until she was sure that her head would pop. Evangeline didn’t want to disturb anyone, so she tried to keep it as quiet as possible, but she found her temper harder to control when there were so many things that annoyed her. She moved the ink-soaked paper out of the way and put her head down, watching the remaining droplets of ink dripping onto her skirt. What she wouldn’t give for a raspberry tart right about now.</p><hr/><p>    Celocia’s apartment was . . . something else. On the exterior, the brick and concrete pattern remained the same, and there was no sign of the space being particularly bigger than the rest of the complex. But if you walked inside, and depending on whether you could get past the quick miracle that made humans steer clear of the door, it looked completely different than most of the other apartments at the time. </p><p>    Even though the idea of “apartments” was well-known, people were still getting used to living in a much more cramped space in the city than a house in the countryside. The ventilation and insulation were poor; if there was any to begin with. Most apartments were hastily made and shabby, with poor-quality appliances and small bedrooms. The wallpaper peeled and had a stench, rats crawled in and out of the walls, and mushrooms grew in some of the darker crevices. At least, that was how Hell planned for them to be built. In reality, and to Hell’s entertainment, they turned out to be much, much worse. The close quarters and poor ventilation made for the passing of contagious diseases (especially smallpox and cholera) easier and much more deadly. When Celocia first rented their apartment in 1870, they miracled it bigger on the inside than it was on the outside, like a wardrobe*. It wasn’t like they needed to, but small spaces didn’t sit quite well with them, so, they made their apartment have a nice living room, a decent bedroom, and a kitchen*. </p><p>    Celocia shoved their body further into the cushions, trying not to inhale the dust, but at this point, with a hand-me-down couch from the previous owner who was too lazy to move it out, it was practically inevitable. They flipped onto their back, pried off their black boots, tossed them somewhere in the apartment, and undid the knot of the beige kerchief, letting it hang lazily around their neck. They flipped the lapel of their waistcoat to see if <em> it </em> was still there. The small, golden ribbon, albeit a bit worn with age, was still clipped to the inside, where Celocia had assigned it when they put this outfit into the rotation for the week*. They stared at it for a few minutes, feeling downcast for no particular reason whatsoever, and remembered the tarts. They had been thrown onto the couch when Celocia had first stumbled into the apartment, but they didn’t know where the bag had gone afterwards. They tried leaning over the side from the spot on the couch, but accidentally rolled over <em> too </em>much, and ended up smacking their head on the coffee table. </p><p>    “<em> Hijo de perra* </em>! I swear to Mammon, why did humans have to make their tables so sharp?!” Celocia swore, getting back onto the couch and rubbing their head. This time, they sat up and searched around, and luckily, found the bag underneath the couch; a bit squashed, but still good enough to eat. They spread out on the couch, laying the small bag on their chest and eating a few. </p><p>“Damn, these have gotten better since the last time I came here. Evan would eat so many of these if she was here.” Celocia laughed at the last part, trailing off into their head. The air seemed to still for a few moments, that unbearable quiet that they couldn’t stand. Celocia continued to eat, shuffling into the different rooms of the apartment to check on the status of each. The kitchen was as dirty as they’d left it five years ago, with pots and pans littering the stovetops and inside the sink. It was slightly bigger than the living room, but made exponentially smaller by the number of dirty dishes. They didn’t need to eat, but by the looks of the bag they were holding, they preferred it. Celocia didn’t cook every night, and by all means, they were <em> not </em>an experienced cook, as evidence shown through the many dishes in the kitchen. But when they did, it was always something new. They trailed into the bedroom next.</p><p>Celocia stood in the doorway, examining the room. The bed was just as disheveled as they’d left it; the duvet and comforter crumpled in the middle with pillows scattered around. And the dust! It was all over the bed, on the carpet, the drapes, the windows, wardrobe, everywhere. It was one of the greatest annoyances for humans. It accumulated in large amounts over short periods of time and took forever to get out with a standard broom. No wonder Hell liked it so much. Luckily, Celocia wasn’t a human. They snapped their fingers, and immediately, any trace of dust remaining was expelled from the room. They sauntered over to the pictures that they kept on a shelf, nearest to the chair beside the wardrobe, and took one, admiring it.</p><p>    In all of Celocia’s years witnessing human invention, the ability to have physical copies of memories was perhaps the most ingenious. They hated to give credit to humans --and by association, God-- especially when, according to Evangeline, Heaven had been printing photos for some time, but damn, it really was a good idea. And obviously, Celocia had a few pictures of their own. Most of them were images of their accomplishments: an especially good job-done-wrong with them and Xorroch, a couple of them with the other demons in Hell, and two stolen pictures. But the one that they were holding was much more important than a few stolen photos and a commendation. It was a black-and-white photo of Evangeline from almost thirty-four years ago.</p><p>They’d spent the day together, right before Celocia had to leave Manhattan for Vermont. She was smiling wildly, swinging her arms in circles, looking up into the night sky, trying to find the stars in a city filled with lights. The dress she’d been wearing didn’t suit her, and Celocia had pointed it out with jest. It was a fond memory, one that they thought about often now, especially since they hadn’t spoken to her in a while. It still made their heart twist into tight knots and fists clench until their knuckles were stark-white. </p><p>They stared at it for a while, thinking about the last time they’d talked to her before they left. It had been a while, hadn’t it? They ought to go over to her apartment once this whole strike business was settled. Finally setting the photo back down on the shelf, Celocia miracled a book out from the bookshelf in the living room and opened the window to the fire escape. With little trouble, they shoved the half-empty bag of tarts out the window, then the book, and wiggled themselves through the opening. The landlord didn’t enforce the rule that you weren’t allowed to sit out on the fire escape, and Celocia was a demon, so they didn’t really give a shit anyways. The space was small, with just enough room for them to curl up into a ball and nap. They pressed their back to the concrete wall, folded their legs in a criss-cross, and started to read, occasionally fumbling inside the tart bag. It was late afternoon, and the summer heat was unbearable --especially for a demon who radiated heat constantly--, but they stayed outside regardless. </p><p>Hours passed by. The tart bag had been tossed back through the window to be discarded later, but Celocia had stayed, flipping pages of the book in boredom. They’d lost interest in reading about an hour ago, but, for some reason, stayed anyway. The streetlights were illuminated, and there were barely any people out on the streets, save for the few teenagers out past curfew. They set the book down, and leaned out toward the railing. They knew it was a starry night, every night was, but the lights in the city made it impossible for them to be made known. Still, Celocia tried to find one, one single star that would soothe that nagging feeling they felt sometimes. It was an action that they did often; coming out to the fire escape to find a star. Their mind supplied the reason that they wanted to see a star that they might have seen someone make, but Celocia sometimes felt that it was because of something else. Something they couldn’t place, but felt, deep down. But it didn’t matter, did it?</p><p> </p><p>*Celocia usually miracles their outfits onto themselves, but only because physically putting on clothes takes too long, especially with the amount of buckles and layers there are. They’ve been doing it for centuries, and they won’t stop now. The ribbon literally travels with them, sometimes ending up on the brim of a hat, or usually, inside the lapel of a waistcoat. </p><p>**Or a TARDIS</p><p>***There is a bathroom, but they only use it for the mirror. Celocia tried using the toilet once...and that, out of everything that they’d seen, heard, or experienced, was the weirdest</p><hr/><p>    Evangeline would be lying if she said that she hadn’t thought about the Earth while she was in Heaven. And how could she not? The better part of her past six-thousand years was spent there, learning about the people, the culture, different languages, and the food. She’d grown accustomed to watching over people for their lifetime, and after they’d passed, moving onto the next. It was simple, easy, and something she had learned to love. Seeing the same people was a simple pleasure she enjoyed, and uprooting her life to do paperwork because she wanted to do something that was out of her jurisdiction was just….insane, and as far as Evangeline understood, something that would’ve been welcomed.</p><p>But, as always, she was wrong. Wrong to, as Micheal had put it, “question the way things are being run by the Almighty”. Evangeline was generally a sweet person, something that had earned her fast friendships with the humans, but what Micheal had said was rubbing her all the wrong ways. Wouldn’t the Almighty want something to be done about the fighting and war that had plagued humanity, especially <em> America </em> , since its creation? She was a loyal being, many times to a fault, but there were things that made her question the whole system that the Archangels had put in place, or rather, what the Archangels said <em> She </em>had put in place. </p><p>    Evangeline had been taking a break from the mountain of paperwork for about two minutes when a messenger angel had approached her.</p><p>    “Excuse me, Guardian Angel Evangeline,” the messenger began. “The Archangel Michael is requesting your presence in her office. I haven’t got the details, but she says it’s urgent.”</p><p>Evangeline practically hit her head against the desk. It was inevitable that Micheal would notice the stream of lazy paperwork that had been coming from her desk, and Evangeline hoped she’d be given only a decade more. But she shouldn’t get her hopes up. </p><p>    “Oh, alright then. Tell Micheal that I’ll be up shortly,” Evangeline sighed, getting up from the chair. </p><p>    “Yes ma’am.” The messenger left urgently, quickly making his way to the elevator, most likely hurrying to tell Micheal her answer before she reamed at him for taking too long. </p><p>Evangeline stood from the desk and stretched, smoothing out the ruffles from her dress; which was old-fashioned, especially in this decade. She might not be as fashion-inclined as Celocia, but she at least knew what was in. And, considering the information she’d pulled from two decades spent in the Records Library, she was out of style by a considerable margin. Right now, middle class ladies wore long skirts with a button-up shirt, sometimes paired with a blazer and a small woven hat. Or, they could actually switch it up a bit: shorter dresses (to mid-shin), with pantyhose to cover up the skin showing, and a button-up underneath. What Evangeline would give to have that instead of her early 1870’s garb: a dress that was heavily accented with ruffles and puffy sleeves that clashed with one another, usually in drab colors like dark grey and black. And the <em> heels </em>. Of all the things that Evangeline hated, high-heels were rated first on her list. No wonder Celocia preferred to dress the way they did.  The only thing that they actually liked about the dress was the fact that the ruffles could hold a small, dual-colored rose, and keep a bracelet at bay. </p><p>    She shuffled out of the cubicle, hands folded over the spot where the ink had dripped earlier. If Micheal saw, she’d have a thing or two to say. And, as far as Evangeline knew, she was going to Micheal’s office for disciplinary purposes, not a friendly chat with tea and crumpets. She made it to the elevator, and pressed the button that led her to the Archangel Offices. They made the occasional stop at random intervals -- a messenger angel with records to deliver, a Principality with better things to do, any angel really. No Archangels though, or Cherubs, or Seraphim. They were too haughty for the public elevator that everyone else took. </p><p>    Evangeline reached the Archangel Offices, and hurried to Micheal’s own. She was about to knock when the door swung open, revealing an irritated Micheal behind a desk. The archangel was a poised figurehead, the second-in-command to Gabriel, and oversaw with an iron fist. She commanded respect, and if you didn’t give it, she took it by force. The only beings she actually submitted to were Gabriel and God Herself. Like most of the angels, excluding Gabriel, she spoke with a British accent, and took pleasure in poking fun at Evangeline’s own, Americanized one. She wore a wool, light grey blazer and a white scarf embellished with a gemstone, with a ruffled shirt underneath. Her slacks were the same color as the blazer, and she wore white, Heaven-issued dress shoes.</p><p>    “Evangeline! I was wondering when you’d grace me with your presence,” Micheal snapped, pointing a well-manicured nail to the chair in front of the desk. “Sit.” Evangeline scurried to the chair, making sure to be careful in hiding the stain. </p><p>    “So, I take it you know why I’ve asked you to come to my office?” Micheal started, miracling away the paperwork in front of her. </p><p>    “W-well, I’m assuming it is because of d-disciplinary action due to my paperwork, but I’m not completely sure.” Evangeline stuttered, squirming in her seat. </p><p>    “Close enough. While I’ve been overseeing your paperwork as of late, and you’d be right, you deserve disciplinary measures because of it, this isn’t about your atrocious handwriting.” </p><p>    “Oh!” Evangeline visibly relaxed. “What is it about then?”</p><p>Micheal stared her down, crossing her hands underneath her chin. “You really don’t know? I figured you’d have at least a measly understanding of what you did down there on Earth, but it turns out I was wrong: you really haven’t got a clue of what you do in tandem with your guardian angel work.” </p><p>    “I haven’t been informed of anything else I needed to do, Micheal. I just thought-”</p><p>    “You just thought?!” Micheal looked like she was going to burst with annoyance. “We put you down there for one reason six-thousand years ago and you failed to do your job! So we assigned you to do something else for a change. Something that would've been a bit more your speed. Looking over people, we thought, would be enough for even a <em> Fallen </em> to do. And, we thought, that included keeping a close eye on the demon that infiltrated the garden <em> you </em> were supposed to protect! I knew you were naive, but not to <em> this </em>degree.” </p><p>    “Micheal, if I may, I-”</p><p>Micheal waved a hand in front of Evangeline’s face, effectively putting an end to her protest. She continued:</p><p>    “And when you decided you would do the job of a <em> Principality </em> ?! A job that we thought we’d taken away from you, a job that is <em> no longer yours </em> . I knew that you would have to be brought up and dealt with. I figured that a few decades away from that...that,” Micheal waved her hands in the air, searching for the right word,” that... <em> backwater continent </em> would drill some compliance and sense into your thick skull, but I was wrong, wasn’t I?”</p><p>    “Well, I wouldn’t say <em> backwater </em>--”</p><p>    “So I brought you up here to do clerical work. Nothing special, you know, the same thing we give all the angels who decide they’re too good for their jobs.”</p><p>Now <em> that </em>, Evangeline heavily disagreed with. But for her own sake, she probably shouldn’t speak up. </p><p>    “Originally, I was going to bring you up for a century or two, get you to miss out on all the things that you considered to be routine on Earth. You were going to do all sorts of chores for us. But then you had paperwork, so we had to give you that instead. And <em> now, </em> the demon has been causing all sorts of havoc that we didn’t foresee, so, instead of trying to record all of the temptations she’s been causing <em> myself, </em>I’ve assigned you to do it instead!” </p><p>Evangeline cringed at the word “she.” <em> Celocia would hate this if they were here. </em></p><p>    “Well? What have you got to say for yourself?” Micheal was back to staring at Evangeline again, obviously waiting for her answer. </p><p>    “Well...um, if I may be so blunt, it’s certainly a step up from doing paperwork. I’ll be right on it.” And although Evangeline didn’t show it, she was practically brimming with joy. It was so much <em> more </em>than a step up from paperwork. </p><p>    “Yes, I suppose it is.” Micheal gave her a sideways glance before continuing. “Furthermore, before I change my mind, I’ve decided that you will be heading back down to Earth early, in about three to four decades' time. Depending on how fast you finish cataloging the temptations, of course.”</p><p>Evangeline’s was practically overflowing with happiness. Although she knew Micheal was only doing so because Celocia was causing trouble, it was still a joy to be heading back so soon. And as she started to head out the door, she heard Micheal’s voice again:</p><p>    “Finish up the remaining stack paperwork on your desk and report to the Records Library immediately after -- you’ve got your work cut out for you. And change into something a bit more respectable; it isn’t the 1870s anymore.” </p><p>The door snapped shut, and it took all of Evangeline’s self control to keep in a very high-pitched squeal that she was sure would break glass. This was it --she’d be going back! Back to amazing tarts, back to the people she knew, back to feeling <em> free </em> . Once she was out of Micheal’s sight, Evangeline miracled an outfit fit for the 1890s, per Micheal’s request, of course. Yellow and gray button-down shirt with a high collar, a very light grey skirt with black shoes, and <em> no </em>heels. The rose was clipped onto a breast pocket miracled on the outfit, and the bracelet was pushed into the shirt’s cuffs. Evangeline’s hair was let down, flowing over her shoulders and framing her face. And if she happened to look into a mirror, she’d be reminded of the decade-long memory in the garden, and the demon that came along with it. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading this chapter!! Comments, kudos, and criticism are always appreciated. </p><p>And a huge thank you to the phenomenal editor - sephiia!</p><p>Socials, if you want to find me:<br/>Tumblr: lonebugget<br/>WattPad: thecronchbar</p></blockquote></div></div>
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